Iconoclast
by Ok Yong
Summary: So we searched for him, we did, that rotten Iconoclast, only to find him a lot further away from the battlefield and a lot closer to our mirrors than any of us imagined.


It didn't take ten minutes for everything to go to hell.

Hell was, of course, not what Pit had been expecting of Smash Manor. Certainly he'd expected fighting, but not _this_ kind of fighting. Somehow he thought he'd gotten way in under his head. He'd been having that feeling a lot, actually, ever since he'd even set foot in Smash Manor, being completely astounded by the endless, lush hallways and glittering halls and the _freaking fifty-yard-long dinner table_. Said dinner table he happened to be sitting at right now. While sitting at said dinner table, he was really wishing he'd never accepted that invite from Nintendo. He should have just taken that new game they promised (after a decade of shunning, too) and kept his toga-ed butt right back at Angel Land where it belonged.

But then he wouldn't be sentient. Hm. Nobody was really, truly sentient until they wound themselves in Smash Manor. If you weren't a Smasher and were just a regular old character, you basically were just a pile of pixels, voice recordings, set reactions, and encrypted codes. At least the piles of encrypted codes didn't know that they were just pixels and recordings and whatnot.

The fact of the matter was, he _wasn't_ just a pile of set reactions and fancy graphics; he was a Smasher and his toga-ed butt was _not_ in Angel Land. It was here. Slumped in this chair. In the Newcomer section of the table. Which, according to Fox, was the farthest from the Veteran side. From what Fox told him the table worked like this: At one end was Mario, the Lead Smasher, and the two Hands. Then there was a sort of tacitly established hierarchy-ranking-status-_thing_ going on in the Veteran group, meaning Link and Samus were sort of tied for second after Mario, and Kirby, Pikachu, Fox, and everybody else in the Vet section following after that. Then there was in the middle section of the huge table the Retired section, but it was quite small, allowing contact between the Newcomer Pit and Veteran Fox. Pit himself didn't actually know who was in that section, but he knew that they had seniority dibs on the Newcomers—hence they sat closer to the Mario and the Hands. Then on the far side was the Newcomer section, which was where Pit was sitting right now, hoping he could die or something.

See, it all started sometime after Fox educated Pit on the Almighty Ways of the Smasher Table, just when Pit had made up his mind that he owed Fox his eternal gratitude for helping this poor Newcomer Smasher in his moment of insecurity and that Fox was an absolute god for his fantastically fantastic kindness. It began with these words:

"Where's Falco?"

Spoken by yours truly: Fox McCloud himself.

Pit had no clue who Falco was. He'd only known a little about this Brawl thing before coming here, meaning he knew most of the Veterans aaaaand…basically nobody else. He could probably guess, but it wouldn't be anything better than that. (He probably should have taken Palutena's advice about researching this thing before signing the contract, and no doubt she'd rub it in his face later.) Fox leaned back in his chair and cooly surveyed the dining table, which had sort of stilled at his question. Everybody quieted and turned towards Fox, who seemed mildly surprised at the reaction to his innocent I'm-just-wondering-aloud question. It was as if nobody had really noticed before, but this "Falco" person wasn't here. And this "Falco" not being here was a _huge_ problem. Pit could understand, though. This was the Opening Banquet, starting the Brawl season. And being late was, all in all, _not good_.

"Er…well, you know Falco," Fox said casually, shrugging to the rest of the Smashers. "He's always late to everything. Including saving my ass. Heck, even saving his own ass."

All the Smashers laughed. Actually, scratch that—everyone but two laughed. Pit knew their names, thank Palutena. Samus, dressed in only her Zero Suit, fiddled with her holstered gun and her beautiful eyes narrowed with a huntress' gaze. She didn't seem like the laughing type, anyway. The other one who hadn't laughed was Link—but then again, whether he was even paying attention or not, Pit couldn't tell. His sharp eyes just stayed fixed on his fork, shoulders squared like a soldier's, hands folded neatly in his lap. Actually, Pit couldn't recall Link moving at all the entire night. Didn't he get tired of sitting so stiffly all the time?

As the laughter died away, Samus suddenly sat up straight and remarked, "Speaking of the Unlockables, where's Snake? I was looking forward to meeting him." When Zelda delicately raised two eyebrows and Peach seemed delighted for some reason, Samus' eyes narrowed to vicious slits and she snapped, "His weaponry and technology sounded interesting. That's _all_."

Mario glanced to Zelda, whose lips had twisted into an almost unnoticeable smile, to Samus, and back to Fox, who was glancing bemusedly around the grand dining room. "That-a reminds me: where's-a my brother?" When nobody answered, Mario added, "Luigi?" as if it needed clarifying. It didn't need clarifying; the Smashers simply didn't have an answer. Behind Mario, Master Hand abruptly whispered something to Crazy Hand, who drifted away with those trademark erratic movements of his.

Pit's feathers began to tremble. Trouble was brewing. And you'd sure as hell better believe the feather's don't lie.

"Ness," a blonde boy next to Pit whispered.

Pit's head snapped towards the blonde kid. "Uh…what?"

"Ness," the blonde boy repeated, slightly louder, but his voice still wavered. "H-He's a psychic like me. He's a Veteran Un—er, Unlockable."

There was that word again: Unlockable. "I guess you know more about this Smash thing than I do," Pit said happily, yet nervously at the same time. "What's an Unlockable?"

"Characters who are not allowed to Brawl u-until certain measures have been m-met," the blonde kid said, strangling his own fingers and staring dejectedly into his lap. "B-But they're supposed to come to the Opening Banquet. They c-can even socialize and everything, Ness said, it's not like they're locked away in a cage or anything. They're just not a-allowed to B-Brawl until their requirements have been f-fulfilled."

"Why are they not allowed to Brawl in the beginning?" Pit wondered allowed, scratching his golden garland of olive leaves.

The blonde boy shrugged nervously, looking suddenly terrified that Pit had asked a question he didn't know the answer to. "I-I d-d-dunno… I-I think C-Crazy Hand m-might have h-had s-something to do with it…?"

Pit raised an eyebrow, confused at the blonde boy's ducked head and obviously shy manner. This wouldn't do; this wouldn't do at all. He needed to get the one person who'd bothered talking to him besides Fox to open up. "Hey," Pit said, "I'm Pit. What's your name?"

"L-Lucas…"

"Cool!" Pit exclaimed. "We'll get through this Brawl tum-tigger together!"

Lucas' head shot up, and his blinking, bewildered eyes met Pit's. "A-Ahh…thanks." And Lucas smiled. It was unsure and insecure, sure, but Pit smiled back, knowing it was a smile all the same.

The brief moment ended as Ike stood up so fast he knocked his chair over. "Marth," he said, his convicting voice seeming to confirm the wrongness of this situation. "I do not think he would be late." He paused, then added ominously, "On purpose, at least."

Peach tittered uncertainly, and a large penguin-looking thing holding a hammer wiped its beak with its mitts, looking uncomfortable. Welcome to the club, freaky penguin thing.

Pit watched Fox place his hands on the table and stand as well, but much slower than Ike had. He seemed lost in thought, rubbing his chin. "Falco…" he muttered. "Falco, Snake, Luigi, Ness,"—Pit and Lucas exchanged amazed glances, wondering if Fox had heard Lucas' whisper—"and Marth are all not here. They are all Unlockables." Fox's eyes swept over the empty chairs. "There are fourteen Unlockables; fourteen empty chairs."

"There's actually fifteen empty chairs," Popo chirped.

"Fine. Fifteen," Fox said.

"There's actually sixteen," Nana chimed in.

Fox cast them a dry look, and he pointed at two chairs side-by-side in the Retired section. "The two _Legend of Zelda_ Retired Smashers couldn't make it. They excused themselves in advance."

For the first time since Pit had seen him sit in his chair, Link shifted and his eyes flickered towards the two chairs Fox had pointed to before they danced away again.

"Hence," Fox finished, oblivious to that small movement on Link's part, "there's only fourteen _unexplained_ empty chairs."

"Oh," the Ice Climbers sighed in unison.

"What you're trying to say is," a Retired Smasher said, flicking his red hair out of his glowing eyes, "every single one of our Unlockables are missing."

"Correct, Roy," Fox called over his shoulder as he deftly skirted his chair and strode to the door. "I'm going to find out what happened to Falco. I'll catch you all later."

"Fox," Master Hand said suddenly, "sit down. We should begin the Opening Banquet soon, and all should be present. I sent Crazy Hand to check; it will be fine." There was a slight pause, during which Fox gave no inclination to sit at all, still standing with his back to Master Hand, and Master Hand added with a much more dangerous tone, "Sit _down_, McCloud."

Fox's head tilted upwards, eyes closed, as if looking for patience, then wheeled around. He had to half-shout because he was at the other side of the room, and heck, the room was _big_. "I can understand Falco being late, but everyone else? Something's up, Master Hand!" Fox jerked a thumb at the door behind him and declared, "And I intend to find out what!"

"I feel like checking up on Marth anyway," Ike said, smirking, picking up his huge double-handed sword from where it was propped against the table. "C'mon, Roy."

"Let's-a go!" Mario cheered before Master Hand could object, hopping up from his chair, and was immediately echoed by a Retired Smasher, who was pretty obviously Dr. Mario, since the identical faces but different outfits put a clear label on them. Together, they dashed off after Fox, who grinned and flung the door wide to allow both Marios and Fire Emblem characters through, waving them through with his gloved hand.

On one hand, Pit was thrilled at this. This smelled of adventure, of excitement, of something daring and grand.

On the other hand, this also smelled of chaos.

His feathers told him so.

Pit decided that maybe he should rethink his initial opinion of Fox, the starter of this whole mess.

Before Pit could get around to doing that, Zelda stood, as solemn and stately as ever, and with her stood Samus, Peach, Bowser, Donkey Kong, his kid Diddy Kong, Yoshi, and several other Smashers. "If you may excuse us, Master Hand," Zelda said softly, "we shall be taking our leave. Forgive us for such disgraceful slander, leaving before dinner was even served." She gave a small bow, then pivoted and led a vast majority of the remaining Smashers with her. Samus casually saluted, but other than that, nobody really acknowledged Master Hand. They all seemed too worried and preoccupied with the absense of the Unlockables.

When the great door thudded shut once again, leaving behind a silent, tense room, there was only Master Hand, Pit, Lucas, a small, caped, masked being with harsh yellow eyes, a fat man in what seemed like biking gear, and surprisingly Link, who had broken his statue-like mode and was examining a fork in his left hand with mild interest, his other gloved hand covering the lower half of his face thoughtfully.

"W-What do we do?" Lucas breathed to Pit. "Do we…you know…follow them?" Lucas' eyes flashed to Master Hand, and Pit knew what he was thinking: were they really going to disobey _Master Hand_?

"Uh… I…" Pit's eyes darted nervously across the table, hoping someone would give him a sign, a clue, some sort of instruction, but even Master Hand was frozen in the air. "I…"

The fork in Link's hand came back down to the tablecloth with deliberate grace, with almost reverence. Link stood, his chair scraping soundlessly against the floor, half-bowed, half-nodded to Master Hand, swiped not just his fork, but his spoon and knife from the table to pocket, and left otherwise wordlessly. Pit's eyes met Link's for a split second before Link turned away, walking at a comfortable pace to the door, and in that second Pit made up his mind.

But completely ignoring what his feathers were telling him—which happened to be _sit your butt back on that seat_—Pit hopped up, seized Lucas' hand, and whispered, "Let's go, Lucas."

Rethinking his opinion of Fox could wait.

* * *

Four minutes later, Pit decided that maybe he should rethink his initial opinion of, not just Fox, but this _entire shebang_…like, _now_.

Many of the Smashers were whispering to each other, frantic and scared. Samus was conversing urgently with the masked yellow-eyed being Pit had seen before, while Mario tried to offer support to a tearing Peach. Master Hand seemed almost listless as Crazy Hand seemed to speak in hushed tones. Lucas still held Pit's hand tightly, as if it were a lifeline, and Pit really didn't mind. He was a bit too preoccupied with staring at the freakishly big black box in front of him.

Pit didn't know Smash Manor well enough to say where in the name of all things sky they actually were in the manor, but he was pretty sure this black box was not supposed to be where it was. It was sort of like an atrium, that would have been big and roomy if there hadn't been a four hundred foot cubed box sitting smack dab in the middle. The thing was massive. Pit had never seen anything like it. Heck, they didn't even have that much black stuff _anywhere_ in Angel Land.

So far, his wings had been right about this being a trail to adventure, excitement, and something daring and grand. The problem with this was that it probably meant that the chaos part of his trembling wings' theory was right, too. Ouch.

"What _is_ that?" a loud voice said, ringing clear above everyone else's low murmurings. Pit's neck cricked when his head whipped around to see a teenage boy a little older than he was with a red baseball cap on his head. "I've traveled a lot of places looking for Pokémon, and I've never seen anything like this."

The Hands paused, seemed to exchange nervous glances, and finally came to a decision. Master Hand cleared his throat and assumed a confident position, like a charismatic leader readying himself for a speech—which he was, actually. Pit had to admire him for being able to summon that kind of confidence. Pit stole a glance at Lucas, who ducked his head in shame again.

"We have located the Unlockables via tracers that have been placed on all of you when you entered Smash Manor," Master Hand began, sounding not uncertain but strong and reliable. "We have come to believe that they are being withheld in this…thing." Master Hand did not wait for Peach's gasps to stop and plowed right on. "There is no way in that we know of, nor is there a way out. We cannot establish contact with any of the Unlockables inside." Determined not to end on a insecure note, Master Hand declared, "We also do not know how this box came to be or how the Unlockables found themselves trapped inside. In short, we do not know who the perpetrator is.

Before any of the Smashers could say anything, Master Hand said, "We must free the Unlockables. This unknown cube has made itself clear to us as well as the controlling force behind it, and the threat it poses it still eminent, assuming sentient life has given birth to this prison. We must free the Unlockables, Smashers."

Master Hand looked out to the small band of Smashers, both Newcomer and Retired and Veteran mingling together. Each had turned to Master Hand for guidance. Each wanted to know what they could do to help their brethren. Each had decided that this foreign black object was a threat, a common enemy, that should be fought together. Each trusted each other to aid one another in this mission to free the Unlockables. Each had a simple and solitary goal.

They, in this moment, were as unified as they would ever be.

Because it would go downhill from there.


End file.
